


Don't Panic

by LizzieRimmsy



Series: Two Immortals [3]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Bickering, Emetophobia, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Panic Attacks, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 18:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17792876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizzieRimmsy/pseuds/LizzieRimmsy
Summary: Normally, Aria kept things to herself; feelings, fears, the occasional thought… for the most part. However, something had happened that night — something that she, unfortunately, couldn't fight back.So naturally, after hearing from Lister that this something had occurred, Rimmer dropped everything and came to her aid.





	Don't Panic

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on something that happened to me a few years back. Not sure if this is technically related to Valentine’s Day, other than posting it on the day, but whatever! Here’s my V-Day ficlet.

Rimmer pelted down the corridor and burst into their quarters, where Lister sat chewing on one of his dreads. “Where is she?” he blurted out in a fright.

Lister simply jerked his thumb toward the washroom tucked away in the corner.

The hologram scantily raised an eyebrow. “Lister, if her problem is constipation, my advice to her would be to stop putting cheese on everything.”

“No, man, it’s serious. She’s in there, latched to the sink.”

Now he was really confused, if not worried. “She’s what?”

“Yeah,” he uttered in a nervous chortle. “Hands gripping the handles, forehead pressed against the faucet… Her breathing is a tad out of whack as well. I tried getting her to talk. Nothin’, unresponsive.”

“Locked in the bathroom, hovering over the sink… Did you give her a vindaloo?”

“No. She hasn’t eaten anything for the last day and a half, actually.”

It hit him. He remembered that she mentioned the reason she stopped eating last time was from her phobia taking over, which for the death of him he couldn't recall the name of. His stomach sank like a stone once he realised it had started up again.

He bounded to the washroom door and hastened to open it. As soon as he did, he found that Lister was right.

There she was, breathing heavily and practically mounting the vanity. She didn’t move or speak — she couldn’t; her mouth was clamped shut and her muscles had tightened up so much she felt she couldn't even lift her head without fainting. She wasn’t even blinking.

Rimmer had never seen her this bad before; though he did recall her saying her attacks got pretty intense at times. Rimmer stared back at Lister apprehensively and asked, “How long has she been like this?”

“Dunno. A few minutes I guess. I wasn't keeping track.”

He wanted to touch her for comfort but he knew it wouldn't be a good idea at the moment. Just approaching her was risky. She could feel as though she was being ganged up on, worsening her anxiety.

With a trembling voice — for the first time in a long time — he softly called out for her by her _first_ name. “Aria? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She mumbled a string of incoherent noises. It was all she could manage.

“I-I’m going to put my hands on you now. Okay?” A hand more shaky than his words hovered over Aria before settling on her at last.

She felt the heel of his cold palm against the back of her neck while his other hand was lightly placed on her stomach; usually, she didn't like to be touched on her neck, yet she did not object this time. The sensation of his long fingers in her hair was almost helping.

 _She feels hot. Burning up, actually. Is this a fever?_ Rimmer worried. _God, don’t let this be some weird, mutated flu. I don’t think I can handle her insane dreams becoming solid._

He gradually moved his hands away, then placed both of them on to hers and gently prised them off the faucet handles and pulled her back towards the front of him. His arms wrapped around her nicely.

But in the end, unable to stand in the same position any longer with limp legs, Aria had no choice but to fall into him, causing the two of them to plop down to the floor in the corner of the room, which knocked the wind out of the hologram.

They were wedged between the wall and the toilet. A cramped space, to say the least, but neither of them cared; she was too mentally and emotionally gone and he was too concerned over her.

As she struggled to turn onto her side, her thigh slightly squashed Rimmer’s meat and two veg. She didn't hear him complain. Even if he had, she was too out of it to notice. Her baby blues stared off into the distance, disassociating.

Lister gestured over his shoulder. “Want me to go get Kryten?”

“No, I’ve got her,” he uttered, hushedly. “but could you, perhaps, play some music?”

He nodded. “Somethin’ of hers?”

“Anything to get her out of this,” he flatly spoke as his fretful eyes scanned her.

Lister scampered off to her quarters and searched through her music collection for something not too loud or obnoxious yet still upbeat. Eventually, he found something that looked interesting.

 _‘Escape from Evil’,_ he mused. He then hurried back and slid the disc into the player. _Think this thing still works._ Soon after he pressed ‘play’, the sounds of a modern day nineteen-eighties alternative rock band came through the speakers.

“Yes!” he exclaimed in his familiar Liverpudlian drawl, bobbing his head to the music. “Not bad. Can’t really dance to it, though.”

“She always said you didn’t have to dance to enjoy music…” Rimmer’s eyes narrowed. _Why am I talking like she’s dead? She’s right here. For now._ He tried to look at her face; however, with the position she was in, he couldn’t get a proper view. A sigh left him before he asked, “Is there any change yet?”

Lister knelt beside them on hands and knees and eyed her. “Er, no. Nothin’. Can you hear us, Ari?”

Bit by bit, her sleepy eyes shifted from a random dirty spot on the floor to the scouser. “Why are you in my face?” Her words were drawn out and somewhat slurred, almost as though she had a stroke.

Rimmer softly laughed, and pushed some strands of her hair behind her ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungover,” She attempted to sit up, except her muscles had waved a white flag a long time ago and could barely lift a finger. “And like I’ve been hit by a lorry…”

With that, Rimmer rose to his feet with ease while cradling her in his arms like an infant. “Right,” he began with strain. “off to bed you go.”

“Can you put me on the couch, so I can some watch vids?” Aria looked him right in the eyes using his mesmerstare against him, looking just as manic as him. Or maybe it was the adrenaline rush. Regardless, she was making it impossible for him to say no.

Broken down and beaten by his own tactics, he breathed out extensively through his nostrils. “Sure. But your shift is in two hours — if you fall asleep, you’re working overtime.”

Aria planted a kiss on the underside of Rimmer’s jaw and settled into his arms. “Yes, sir,” she mumbled, half asleep already. The sensation of heat radiating from him along with the feeling of his cushy quilted jacket against her body nearly made her doze off.

After laying her on the couch, he took the duvet and pillow from his bunk, then lifted her head carefully and slid the pillow underneath; he covered her up and tucked her in.

“Do you need anything or… anything?”

Lister scoffed and chortled in disbelief.

The hologram cast the slightest glance to the slobby scouser, then returned his focus to Aria. “Something on your mind, mi’laddo?”

“No, just– How come you’re not like this with me or anyone else?”

“I’m sorry, did _you_ have a panic attack?” he retorted.

Lister mimicked what he said in a mocking tone and tsked. “Whatever, man.”

Aria decided in that moment to end their lover's quarrel before it truly started. “I’m good, thanks.”

A light smile swapped places with Rimmer’s usual straight-faced glare. Just as he was getting up to leave, he was stopped by her. “What is it?”

“Where are you going? Sit with me.”

Rimmer was hoping he could just leave it there. He had other things to tend to, things that, in his mind, were more important than sticking around to watch her drift off to the land of Nod.

“Harkness, I have…” Clocking Lister’s look of disapproval, he lamented. “Nothing. Nowhere," he moaned and flopped down in front of the far end of the couch. “What are we watching?”

Aria reached out for the remote that was on the table, so close yet so far away. She whined over it like a puppy in need of a good petting.

Rimmer rolled his eyes, plucked the remove and handed it to her. “Baby," he muttered.

“Goit,” she spoke in an undertone.

He turned to glower at her. “Minger.”

“Overachieving bastard.”

“Retro yob.”

“Is that supposed to be insulting?”

“I’ll just take over your shift then, shall I?” Lister chimed in. He was ignored.

“Yes. You’re in the future, not the mid-eighties. Get with the times,” Rimmer snapped back at her.

She chortled. “Says the man who plays still the Hammond organ. Get a _Korg_ for God's sake!”

Lister’s torso lurched from a silent chuckle and walked out with a grin plastered on his face. After he passed through the doorway, still able to hear them bickering, he thought aloud, “Yeah, she’s fine now.”


End file.
